


death's a long time coming

by mollivanders



Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: F/M, Post-Season 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-13
Updated: 2012-01-13
Packaged: 2017-10-29 17:42:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/322465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mollivanders/pseuds/mollivanders
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Caroline runs.</p><p>(She runs from the veins spreading across Elena’s face, from the gash on Bonnie’s neck, from Matt’s terribly soft, sad eyes.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	death's a long time coming

**Author's Note:**

> Title: death's a long time coming  
> Fandom: The Vampire Diaries  
> Rating: PG  
> Characters: Klaus/Caroline  
> Author's Note: Word Count - 609. Spoilers through 3x11 'Our Town'.  
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

**Title: death's a long time coming**  
Fandom: The Vampire Diaries  
Rating: PG  
Characters: Klaus/Caroline  
Author's Note: Word Count - 609. Spoilers through 3x11 'Our Town'.  
Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Caroline runs.

(She runs from the veins spreading across Elena’s face, from the gash on Bonnie’s neck, from Matt’s terribly soft, sad eyes.)

She runs with Klaus.

There doesn’t seem to be another way for her, since this town won’t have her anymore. Her mother would have her, watches Caroline pack a hurried bag and hugs her tight. “Come home,” her mother whispers against her hair, and Caroline wants to.

(She runs, all the same.)

She tells herself: every woman’s an island and dead though she may be, she’s not going to bring her mother down with her. Not when everyone else has sunk in to the mania of the past two years; not when she can still dream about their faces.

(They haunt her less than her mother, who dies. Eventually.)

Klaus is more of an ornament than anything else, a means to an end, and he knows it. Caroline wonders what she is to him (but he never tells). He hangs on her arm and gives her the tour of the city, bringing long-dead stories to life, makes Caroline want to believe. She does, for a while; believes the faded tapestries were once bright, that quiet fields were once soaked with blood, believes music once filled dusty theatres.

But it’s all so _human_ , and she thought they were past that now. Both of them.

“You promised me beauty,” she says one night, lazily wrapping a ribbon around her finger (over, under). The balcony looks out over the Viennese night and he leans behind her, his scent warm and dangerous. She’s never quite sure with him, after all.

“What more could you want?” he asks.

(She’d always pictured it in dingy hotels and with a radio blaring, but Klaus will have nothing but the best.

Perhaps this is why he has her.)

“Is your family beautiful?” she asks instead. The old Caroline would have been brave to say it, but Caroline doesn’t fear death anymore, though he still tempts her with it, his teeth grazing her skin but not breaking it. Not this time.

(She’s almost died six times now; it’s lost its novelty.)

“Time for bed,” he returns, diversion for diversion, and she meets his eyes, briefly, before he drops his gaze lower, and lower, and his teeth follow.

(Perhaps that’s all she is, a diversion from eternity, its promise unfulfilled.

Seven times.)

In the morning, she’s still left wanting, head full of echoes who’d she have long outlived even without vampires descending on their town.

She sees Elena once, or thinks she does, bundled up in robes in Moscow. It’s almost impossible to tell the difference anymore, but she’s with Stefan, and Katherine –

well, Katherine’s not with Stefan.

“Let’s go north,” she murmurs in Klaus’ ear, breaking his concentration on a hapless tourist, sure to be dinner. The girl doesn’t look that good (looks too much like Bonnie), and Caroline’s happy to arrest him. “How north?” he asks, curious. Less deadly, as far as the eye can tell.

But she knows him better.

“You promised me beauty,” she repeats, and thinks of glittering ice, of endless snow and bright sun. He stares at her – takes her hand, presses a would-be kiss to her wrist and pulls her close, mouth warm on hers and tinged with blood.

(Eight times.)

A train, a plane, and a sled-dog caravan take them higher and higher, and Caroline spares the dogs; Klaus does not.

“You need to get over it,” he says casually, wipes a bloody hand through her hair. “Isn’t that what I’m always telling you?”

She smiles, half-heartedly, thinks of Elena – Matt – Bonnie – Tyler – her mother.

Ninth time’s the charm.

_Finis_


End file.
